


A Study in Reproductive Science - The New Arrivals.

by welovethebeekeeper (orphan_account)



Series: How Two Became Three [5]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Parentlock, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-08
Updated: 2013-12-08
Packaged: 2018-01-04 00:20:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1074782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/welovethebeekeeper
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Part of a parentlock series, where new babies are added to the Watson Holmes clan. Probably should read the other parts of the series, not a stand alone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Study in Reproductive Science - The New Arrivals.

Sherlock was engrossed in an experiment at the kitchen table; he was studying slides on his microscope whilst worrying an acid burn on his index finger subconsciously.

John opened the dividing doors to the living room and looked in.

“Ben’s at Mycroft’s till eight this evening. Mycroft will have him dropped off.”

“Good.” Sherlock did not look up from his slides. “I shall pray for our son in his time of need.”

“He loves being with Mycroft. They were up in the attic with the telescope when I left.” John defended. “Besides, it means we have ....you know... we’re alone till later on this evening.”

“Yes. Good.” Sherlock remained oblivious.

“Well, I was thinking, we have all afternoon and early evening. We could do...things.”

“What are you on about?” Sherlock finally looked up at John, slightly exasperated.

“Maybe something that begins in S and ends in X!” John looked back with a hopeful expression.

“You want to go to Sussex this afternoon?” Sherlock deadpanned, he knew full well that was not what John had been referring to. He leaned back on the kitchen stool and folded his arms across his chest. 

John offered a pout that conveyed he knew a game was now on. “We don’t have to travel down to the cottage, we could stay in Bed...fordshire. See the sights, taste the local delicacies on offer.”

Sherlock nodded, considering the option: “Home grown delicacies. I hear they grow them rather large in these parts.”

John walked slowly and deliberately towards Sherlock, finally standing as close as possible. “Succ..u..lent.” He whispered. Sherlock eyes grew dark as they gazed at each other. “Interested?” Sherlock swallowed and nodded. John bent down and kissed him. “Bed, now.” John pulled back, determination and lust written all over him. Sherlock stood and strode in the direction of their bedroom. John smirked and followed.

 

********

They lay facing each other in post coital bliss. Sherlock had insisted on tantric sex as they had all afternoon to themselves, and he preferred the ebb and flow of desire, making the final organism intense and languid. John didn’t care, he was just happy and sated. 

“Do you recall our conversation a few weeks ago about the embryos in California?” Sherlock was looking intense.

“Yes.” John knew where this was going.

“Made a decision?”

“Yes.”

“And that decision is?”

“Yes.”

“Stop saying ‘yes’ John. Are we going to explore the viability of more offspring or not?”

“Yes.” John giggled, knowing he was annoying his husband.

“Idiot.” Sherlock grinned. “You want to do this? Not going to complain you are too old?”

“Thanks Sherlock. Thanks for reminding me that I am almost forty eight. By the time a new baby arrives I may be fifty. Hadn’t thought of that myself.” John feigned displeasure, but his eyes spoke the opposite. 

“I am only pointing out a roadblock which I am sure you will construct in the course of these events.” Sherlock defended. He wrapped a leg around John’s leg and rubbed his foot up and down John’s calf. “I don’t think you are old at all. Perfect age in fact. Top of your game.”

“Alright, alright, no need to overdo it.” John smiled and reached over to play with some curls. “I think older parents are every bit as good, if not better than young ones. So no, it is not a problem for me. I _am_ concerned how Benedict will take it though.”

“He’ll be fine. He’s old enough to understand and appreciate the process, he’s secure in himself and our love for him, he will adore the role of big brother, I think he will love a sibling.” Sherlock was convinced of those facts.

“Same age difference as between you and Mycroft.” John hesitantly pointed out.

Sherlock sighed and considered the past. “Mycroft adored me, and I him, we had a wonderful relationship as children. Seven years was actually a good gap. It was only our parents, their marital woes, and Mycroft being sent away to school that caused a problem. Then my drug use. Benedict will be fine with the new baby.”

“I agree. I think it will really bring out the best in Ben.” John smiled. “So, are we designating this afternoon as the moment of conception?

“I recall the afternoon we conceived Ben. A Sunday, I was upset about mortality. You agreed to a baby. It was heaven.” Sherlock nuzzled into John. 

“How does today stack up?” John kissed the tip of Sherlock’s nose.

“Close. It isn’t over yet. Think we had till eight you said?” Sherlock caressed John’s lower back. “Think you may need to make another deposit Dr Watson. To be on the safe side.” Sherlock bit his own lower lip and fluttered his eyelashes.

“You are such a flirt Sherlock Holmes. What is a man to do?”

“I know you know exactly what to do.” Sherlock squeezed John’s arse. “You can go fast and furious this time if you prefer.”

 

********

Dr Osbourne was delighted to hear from Sherlock and his request for another child. She had followed Benedict’s progression for the entirety of his six years and was delighted and proud of the bright and bubbly little boy. His annual trips to the research centre in Vacaville, California, had always been a joy. He and the other research children were all thriving and over fifty more babies had been born to same sex couples, in the six years since Ben entered the world.

The remaining two frozen embryos belonging to John and Sherlock were viable for reanimation and implantation, and a surrogate mother was chosen. The five week wait for confirmation of pregnancy was tedious and terse in the Watson Holmes family, with John getting snappy and sullen and Sherlock manic and overwrought. Benedict had not been informed of the plans, and was wondering why his parents were in bad moods. Mycroft, Mrs Hudson and Lestrade attempted to take the pressure off the boy with lots of outings offered, but Ben was in tune with is parents and knew something was afoot. 

The news finally came that the two embryos had planted successfully and there was now a viable double pregnancy. Time to tell Benedict.

On a Friday evening in early Autumn Benedict was taken on a jaunt through Regent’s Park by his Fathers after they had dinner. They had a game of ‘tag’ running through the leaves and getting all flushed and breathless, they frightened some ducks, plus an old lady with a Corgi [not the Queen] and finally bought hot chocolates from a vendor and sat on a bench.

“We have something we need to tell you.” Sherlock began.

“Ask you really.” John corrected with a look at Sherlock.

“Is it why you two have been grumpy?” Ben looked up at them. “As I know you have been, and I know we haven’t had a case, and if Uncle Greg has fired us I could talk to him.”

John and Sherlock smiled at each other.

“No, Uncle Greg hasn’t fired us.” John assured. “It’s true we have been grumpy. But we have been making a decision, a decision that will effect us all, and it’s been worrying us. But now we think we have decided what to do and we need your input.”

“OK.” Ben had a chocolate moustache and looked adorable.

“What would you think if we had another child? A brother or sister for you?” John looked at Ben.

“You said I couldn’t have a puppy. So why a little brother or sister?” Ben reasoned with a puzzled expression. “Puppies would be much cheaper.” That made John laugh.

“It’s not the expense Ben.” Sherlock spoke, “it’s just that when we made you, we actually made a few other babies. But those babies were not allowed to grow, they were kept in storage. You were the only one that grew and was born. But we need to decide if we want one of the babies in storage to grow and be born. What do you think?”

“Are they in a cupboard?” Ben was wide eyed at the idea of babies in storage.

“No a freezer.” Sherlock answered. 

“Sherlock!” John felt he had lost control of the content of the conversation.

“A freezer!!” Ben was shocked. “Are they like snow babies?”

“No, just little bundles of cells that are frozen and could grow into a baby if we want them to.” Sherlock continued. “They are potential babies. But we need to decide if we want any more to actually grow and be born.”

“So I have brothers and sisters already, but they aren’t born?” Ben was mesmerized by the discussion.

“Technically yes.” Sherlock nodded.

“Then we should let them be born.” Benedict was firm in his decision. “They are our family, they shouldn’t be in a freezer Daddy. They can share my room, we can get bunk beds. My room is warm.” Sherlock loved Ben so much in that moment, he was lost for words.

“So, the decision is we let another baby grow. We have another kid in our family.” John summed up.

“No, all of them Dad. We can’t leave one of us behind in a freezer.” Ben pleaded. “It’s all of us. We can all fit into the flat, it’s a big flat.”

“Fine. Then let us prepare to expand our family.” Sherlock stood up and sniffed the autumn air. 

“I’ll be a big brother.” Ben jumped up and took his Daddy’s hand. “I get to train them.”

“Maybe we should have gone with the puppy.” John looked at Sherlock.

Sherlock took John’s hand in his free one, and the three Watson-Holmes men walked home.

 

******

 By the third trimester the babies were deemed healthy by Dr Osbourne who was sending ultrasound photos by email, always careful to hide the sex as both John and Sherlock did not want to know. Benedict was convinced they were boys and he was about to receive recruits into his household regiment. 

The loft of 221B was converted into a third bedroom with  en suite, and it was large enough to have a play area which Benedict took control over and decorated with his forts and soldiers. Mycroft offered to hire a nanny, which was initially declined by Sherlock and John, but then reconsidered and gratefully accepted. The nanny would live in 221C and also help Mrs Hudson in some of her household duties that were now becoming a wee bit too much for her. Mycroft had 221C refurbished.

The birth took place in Vacaville, California, in the new birthing suite at the research facility. John, Sherlock and Ben were in a comfortable lounge in which to wait for the arrival and when the time came for the delivery they were escorted next door where the surrogate was in a large birthing pool. Benedict had not expected that and it fascinated him that the babies would be able to swim immediately. Sherlock kept to the back of the room with Ben, whispering explanations of the delivery to his son. John was invited to the rim of the pool in order to assist.

Baby number one came out as if flying gracefully through the air. A push, a splash and she was a tiny mermaid in the water. John reached and grabbed her and brought her up into the air. She roared! The cold slamming into her and causing her to take her first breath. She was angry as hell. She screamed and wailed and flayed her little limbs as hard as she could, one hand thumping John on the nose for good measure.The cord was cut and she was free. John wrapped her in a soft towel and held her close, she was still screaming in anger.

“Oh are you ever your Father’s daughter.” John laughed. “Start as you mean to go on, tell everyone in the room they are idiots.” He looked over at Sherlock who was smiling back at him. “This one is yours.” John grinned. He walked over and handed the now pouting baby to his husband. Ben jostled to see her.

“She looks like us Daddy. But very red and upset.” He observed. Sherlock stared at her lost for words. He bent his index finger and gave her the knuckle to suck, she took it and stopped screaming, he pulled her close into himself and bent to smell her head. The raven dark curls were starting to dry and spring forth, her colour calming to a pink blush.

“She looks like my Mother.” He said to John. 

John reached over and kissed him, “she looks like you gorgeous.” He ruffled Ben’s hair and went back for baby number two.

The second baby did not come as easily into the world, she required some manual help from Dr Osbourne’s skilled hands and several minutes of intense pushing, but finally she was in the pool and Dr Osbourne handed her to John. Smaller than her sister and much quieter, she opened her eyes immediately and blinked at John. She was a Watson, no doubt, blonde and fair with the distinctive nose. John choked out a happy sob and kissed her head.

“Hello baby girl.” He cooed. “Welcome to your family.”

Ben ran across and looked at her in John’s arms. “Oh wow.” He called back to Sherlock. “This one is happier.”

John looked at his son, and smiled. “Here is your big brother, who will love and protect you.” He spoke to the baby. “And Ben this is your sister that you will adore for the rest of your life.” He let Ben hold her tentatively.

“Let’s move the family back into the lounge.” Dr Osbourne gestured to the nurses. John took back the baby and together with Ben they followed Sherlock and baby number one into the lounge. Once there a nurse worked with Sherlock on assessing one baby and another nurse worked with John and Ben in assessing and preparing the other. 

Finally they were able to sit on the sofa and hold their girls and study them. 

“Well we have another baby Sherlock. This time in the original colour scheme. A bit of a diva, loud, opinionated and easily upset. Then we have a baby John, finally a Watson in the mix. Quiet, content and placid. Girls Ben! Sisters eh?” John summed up.

“May I just defend our interests.” Sherlock had been uncharacteristically quiet, holding baby girl number one very close. “We are not a ‘diva’, we may be loud but it remains to be seen if we are opinionated, and as for easily upset; well being jettisoned into another world that is cold, wet and hostile, I would say justifies any anger expressed.” He still had his index finger in the baby’s mouth. “I shall defend you daughter against the barbs of idiots.”

“They must be opposites.” Ben ventured. “That would be interesting wouldn’t it Daddy?” Sherlock nodded in response.

“Want to swap?” John asked his husband, who stood up and obliged.

“Oh Good God, this one is stunning.” John sighed, he was biased, as the baby was a replica of Sherlock. “You are going to break hearts young lady.”

Sherlock looked at his youngest child, he was overwhelmed with love for her. “John, she has your nose. I was hoping one would have your cute nose. I love that nose.”  Sherlock was running his finger up and down the baby’s nose. “She is so beautiful.”

“She’s a bit like Aunt Harry.” Ben was staring at her. Sherlock blinked his disapproval but refrained from comment. “But the other loud one looks like me.”

“They are both beautiful girls.” John beamed, “we have a beautiful boy and now two beautiful girls.”

Sherlock looked over at John, a hesitant look on his face. “Yes but they’re _girls_ John, not really my area.”

“It wasn’t your area. Is now.” John smirked. A nurse came over with formula for the babies and handed the bottles to the two Fathers. Ben snuggled next to Sherlock and assisted feeding baby number two.

“What are their names?” Ben asked, the realization hitting him that nobody had mentioned names.

“Well?” John looked at his husband. Many hours of heated debate had occurred on this subject and finally John had decided to leave it to Sherlock once the babies were born, as he had done an excellent job naming Benedict.

“The one like me is Lydia, and the John one is Millicent.” Sherlock announced as if it were a foregone conclusion.

“Lydia Watson Holmes.” John looked at the baby in his arms, “yes, I think she suits that.” 

“And this one suits Millicent. It’s an old name I know, but it was in the family way back, and I like it. Millicent Watson Holmes. Has gravitas.” Sherlock finished feeding her and placed the baby on his shoulder to bring up the wind.

“Benedict, Lydia and Millicent.” John tried the names of his children out. “And Sherlock. All great names and then there is ‘John’, it’s just doesn’t have the same ring to it.”

“You don’t need a name to stand out. You stand out.” Sherlock frowned. 

“Can the girls sleep in my bed tonight?” Ben asked, yawning. “I want to start protecting them as soon as possible.”

“They probably want to sleep in their cot for a while Ben, but eventually I am sure they will prefer to be in your bed with you.” John burped Lydia. “Shall we see if we can leave and go back to the hotel?”

“Yes, I think so. Had enough of all this. Time to get on with it.” Sherlock stood up. “I’ll go and tell Dr Osbourne.” 

Within the hour the family of five were back at their hotel and settled in for the night. Ben was exhausted and fell asleep on the sofa, the twins asleep in their basket, cuddled up together as they had been for the preceding nine months. Sherlock, now in his pj bottoms and tee shirt, walked over to where John was sitting in a large armchair and mounted his husband’s lap.

“Are you OK?” John looked up into the aquamarine eyes. “A bit quiet today.”

“Yes.” Sherlock gazed down at him. “Just two new babies, reality settled in. Overload of sentiment. Wanted to maintain some dignity in front of Benedict.”

“Arh, yes, feeling the overpowering love for your offspring.” John stroked Sherlock’s arm gently. 

“Perfect little girls.” Sherlock smiled a huge smile. “You realize that they are going to take over our lives and wrap us three men around their tiny pink fingers.”

“No doubt about it.” John giggled. “Come here.” He pulled Sherlock in for a long, slow, wet kiss. Sherlock pressed into him and responded hungrily. “Lets get the kids to bed and then then lets mark this day as special.”

“I love you John Watson.” Sherlock whispered in his ear.

‘And I adore you my beautiful creature.” John delivered a final kiss before pushing Sherlock up and off his lap. 

 

**********

 The girls were a month old before they flew home to the UK. Sherlock strode through Heathrow, with the twins strapped to his torso in a Twin Trexx Carrier, in triumph at being home. John and Ben followed behind in their matching San Francisco 49ers caps. Mycroft had a car waiting for them and soon they were opening the door to 221 Baker Street,

“Paint.” Sherlock sniffed the air. “Someone has been painting in here.”

“Oh hello my loves.” Mrs Hudson rushed out of 221A, all a flutter. “Let me see these girls!” She touched the back of their heads gently.

“They are fast asleep.’ Sherlock pointed out, as the girls nestled against him, Lydia sucking her thumb. “Come up and I’ll unharness them, you can hold them.”

“Hello Nana.” Benedict went and gave her a huge hug.

“Oh my lovely boy.” Mrs Hudson returned the hug and added a kiss to the top of his ginger curls. “What do you think of your sisters?”

“Ones very noisy and gets angry all the time and the other is just quiet.” Ben informed. “They don’t do much really.”

“Just you wait a year, they will be doing a great deal by then.” Mrs H smiled. “John dear, you look tired.” She gave him a hug as they followed Sherlock up the stairs to the flat. Sherlock unharnessed the twins and put them both on the floor to wake up. Mrs Hudson knelt down and examined them, cooing over them.

Sherlock abruptly turned and ran up the stairs towards the converted attic, John and Ben in his wake. They opened the door and found that the room had undergone a makeover.

“Fairies!! John the room has been infested with lilac glittering fairies.” Sherlock was appalled. “Mycroft!” He spat out. “His idea of a joke.”

“I like it.” John looked around at the new nursery, light lemon walls, a purple accent wall, and a smattering of pretty fairies flying across the space, with a few perched on the top of the window frame. Two white wooden cots were the centre of the room with matching lemon bedding, and fairy mobiles, a white changing table was in the corner, fully stocked, and a huge wooden rocking horse had appeared at the top of the stairs.

“Where’s my fort and the soldiers?” Ben was upset. “Daddy, someone moved my forts.”

“Your Uncle Mycroft is the one responsible for this hideous display of femininity run riot.” Sherlock was livid, he took out his mobile and called Mycroft.

“It’s a nice gesture. Be kind to him.” John shook his head and went back downstairs to make tea. Benedict sat on the top stairs and had a cry.

“Brother dear. I see you have gifted us with a decorator for the nursery. Seeing as it is hideous in it’s aspiration to meet generalized female preferences, and has subsequently made your nephew cry. I suggest you have the decorator return and redo the room.” Sherlock was aloof and condescending. “ASAP, that is if you want to have access to your nieces.” He ended the call and sat down next to Ben.

“Maybe the forts are back in your room. It will all be fine, we will have this room redone and the far end will still be yours for your forts. You can decide on the colours this time.”

Ben looked up at him. “I don’t mind the colours but my forts were supposed to stay up here.”

“I know. Uncle Mycroft is a meddler. We shall deny him a scone next time he wants one.” Sherlock grinned. “Come on, Nana will want to fuss over you.” He led Ben back to the living room.

“They are a mini version of you and John.” Mrs Hudson now had both girls on the sofa propped up on cushions. They were awake and staring at their new surroundings.

“Obviously.” Sherlock went to his lap top and began to catch up on mail. “The John one is Millicent and the one like me is Lydia.”

“Oh how lovely Sherlock. Good names.” Mrs H smiled.

“Stop calling Millicent the ‘John one’.” John came in with mugs of tea. “She’s Millicent. End of.”

“Hello Milly, love.” Mrs Hudson cooed at the little girl, ‘I had an Aunt Milly. I think it suits her.” She took a mug of tea from John.

“Lestrade.” Sherlock was back on his mobile. “Just read your email. How many bodies?”

“Case.” John looked at Benedict and they both smiled in anticipation.

 

******

 

“I think we hire the gay guy.” Sherlock spoke with exasperation. 

“Why?” John frowned.

“Not for the reason your thinking!” Sherlock sighed. “I am not attracted to the male nanny. Have you ever known me attracted to anyone that isn’t you? I just think a male nanny would fit in better.”

“The girls need a female role model.” John argued.

“Why? Mrs Hudson is here and no doubt Molly Hooper will be insinuating herself on them shortly. We don’t require a female role model.” Sherlock huffed.

“Let’s just decide based on the best person for the job. I think that was Sophie. Right age, good references, not overly intrusive, good education. My vote is for Sophie.” 

“I preferred Gavin. He has good references, has great experience with several families, would keep him self to himself when not working. Solid candidate.” Sherlock countered.

“I think we hire Joan. I liked her the best.” Ben was sitting at the table and taking his role in the hiring of a nanny very seriously. “She is calm and quiet, but would be fun, and she’s pretty too.”

“Pretty shouldn’t come into it.” John pointed out.

“So we have a stalemate. We all want different candidates.” Sherlock rolled his eyes. “Let’s  think about it and make a decision at breakfast.”

 

Joan was hired the next day. The consensus being that she was solid, capable, not a push-over, intelligent and the one person that was going to interact with her the most, and had an opinion, liked her. Joan moved into the basement flat.

 

******

 

Sherlock wore the twins as much as his Belstaff coat. They were harnessed up and carried beneath his coat, both nestled against his chest. He took to wearing them around the flat; one on his front and the other on his back. He became adept at moving normally while both girls slept about his person.

Lydia was vocal. She screamed loudly when in any type of minor distress and she roared when really angry. She could turn beetroot red and stiffen like a board if in a strop. There were only two ways to calm her down; sucking on Sherlock’s fingers or being hissed at directly into her ear in a monotone. One memorable day she screamed for forty seven minutes in Mycroft’s car on a journey to Birling Cottage. All other inhabitants of the car where traumatized for weeks.

Millicent was placid, she was the only family member that could sleep through Lydia’s screams. She was an easy baby to care for and slept a great deal. She liked being on Sherlock’s head, just like her brother before her, and would balance perfectly on his curls and sleep. Milly also enjoyed Sherlock’s violin and would stare at him when he played, her eyes tracing every sway and stretch, she never slept through a performance.

Benedict loved both of his sisters, he enjoyed helping with the hands on care duties and was excellent at bathing the girls. By his eighth birthday he was reading to them every night as they all lay in their parents bed, and would nuzzle into their hair and kiss their tiny noses, as his bedtime routine. 

Joan found herself doing less with the children than expected, as Sherlock was very hands on and at times was gruff with her if she got in his way. Her duties morphed into helper to Mrs Hudson, PA to Sherlock and babysitter only if a case was in progress. But it paid well and she loved her flat, so she stayed.

 

*******

“Hi.” John entered the flat on a cold snowy afternoon in late January, removing his scarf and coat with a shake.

“John.” Sherlock’s tone spoke volumes. John snapped his head around to look at his husband. Sherlock had Milly, now eight months old, in front of him, propped up on his bent legs as they sat on the floor. He was looking up at John with a mixture of sadness and fear apparent in his expression. “Milly can’t hear.”

“What?” John frowned. “No.”

“She can’t hear.” Sherlock repeated. John crouched on the floor next to them and clapped his hands, Milly turned to look at the movement.

“See. She heard that.” John reasoned.

“No, she felt the vibration of sound, and saw your movement, she can pick up vibration but not the auditory wave.” Sherlock spoke quietly with conviction. “I’ve tested her all day.”

“Show me.” John needed more.

Sherlock handed Milly over to John and stood up, “keep her focused on you.” He moved out of the baby’s eye line. 

“Milly.” Sherlock called from the kitchen. The baby did not respond, “Milly.” He came closer but no response. John was studying his daughter. Sherlock bent close to the baby’s ear, still out of her eye line. “Milly” The baby turned and looked at him, raised her arm and patted Sherlock on the cheek. Sherlock smiled at her and stood back up. “She only hears the vibrations of my voice when I am close to her. I did a study with both girls, Lydia hears me call her name from the kitchen and looks to see where I am, Milly never does.”

“Oh no.” John looked devastated, realization setting in. 

“I compared my notes on them John. Lydia is using babbling to try and talk to us, Milly isn’t. I know we just say she’s the quiet one, but she isn’t using any noises to attract attention, Lydi yells at us to notice her. I told Joan to take Lydia and Ben out to play in the snow at the park, and I said bye bye to Lydi and she waved at me. She knew the words meant that we were parting. I tried it with Milly and received no response. Here, say something nice to her but don’t change your facial expression.”

“I love you Milly.” John did as instructed.

“Now say it but with facial expression.”

“I love you Milly.” John smiled at her. The baby returned with a beaming smile and a jostle of her limbs towards John.

“She understands facial expression and body language but she isn’t hearing us John.” Sherlock ruffled his hands through his hair and flopped down on the sofa.

“Have you called Dr Osbourne?” John asked raising from the floor and sitting next to Sherlock. 

“Yes.” Sherlock snapped. “She referred me to a pediatric ENT man here in the city, wants him to assess Milly.”

“Well, we get an appointment asap.” John sighed. “How did we miss this?”

“Idiots. It must have been apparent for months. Just.....do parents become stupid with their own children?” Sherlock was angry at himself.

“Yes. But maybe we didn’t notice because we just thought she was the opposite of Lydia.”

“Milly loves my violin, now I realize it’s not the music, it’s the vibrations, and my movements she is fascinated by. I had thought it was the music John, I had hoped she’d be...” Sherlock looked at John and his eyes finished the sentence.

“Yeah.” John nodded. ‘But we move on, there is treatment, we don’t have all the facts yet.” He held Milly up to his chest and felt the baby snuggle into him. John reached over and pulled Sherlock into the hug. All three absorbed the moment in a tight embrace on the sofa.

“Daddy I had a snowball fight with some other kids in the park It was brilliant.” Ben ran into the room, all red cold nose and snowflakes on his knitted hat. Sherlock sat up and helped him off with his wet coat. “Two of the boys let me be on their team, and they were really nice, they weren’t idiots at all.”

“Dada dada dada” Lydia was carried in kicking and squirming to get free of Joan, her baby mittens dangling in rhythm from their cord around her neck. “Dada.” Her arms went out to Sherlock, he stood up and took her off Joan, delivering a kiss to her nose as he swung her around. 

Benedict flopped into the warm vacant spot on the sofa next to John. “Can we go back out in a bit and build a snowman Dad?” He asked.

“After tea. Let me get everyone fed first and we’ll see.” John responded. “Joan go and sort yourself out and then maybe come up and feed the girls for us, I’ll sort food out for my boys.” John rose and handed Milly to Sherlock who danced around the room with both girls, Lydia giving her sister a smile and a “Mmmmmm” which was her attempt at saying ‘Milly’.

John looked at Sherlock, their eyes locking, John conveyed a look of strength and hope, Sherlock accepted it with a slight smile.

 

*******

By the time the twins first birthday rolled around, Milly had been diagnosed with profound hearing loss. She could hear vibration and loud noise but little else. The plan was to have a cochlear implant fitted immediately after her birthday to aid speech development as soon as possible. A top surgeon had been engaged by Mycroft and a room at a plush private hospital secured for the recovery period. The surgery went well and Milly was, as usual, a contented and happy baby. Sherlock watched over the proceedings like a hawk, a specter stalking the staff at every turn in the recovery room. Once home, Milly recovered from the surgery well and Lydia grew accustomed to the new adornments on her sisters head; the headband to secure the outer part of the implant and the small round receiver that was attached to Milly’s skull. When the day finally arrived to turn the implant on, the family gathered in the surgeon’s office.

“Are we ready then?” Dr Lowe came into the room with his nurse and the audiologist. “Ready to hear your family’s voices Milly?”

“We will start at a very low volume.” The audiologist explained, “and increase volume over a six week period.”

“Yes, yes.” Sherlock was impatient and knew all of the details.

“Sherlock.” John sent a look across the room, to which his husband tutted and rolled his eyes. “Yours should be the first voice she hears.”

“Me? Why?” Sherlock asked.

“Because. It just should. Then Benedict’s, and finally mine.” John stated.

“Then you hold her.” Sherlock passed Milly to John and positioned himself in front of her. The baby was exploring a brightly coloured toy with her mouth, all different textures. 

Benedict shivered with anticipation and watched his parents closely.

“Ok. We are now turning the implant on.” The audiologist was at the computer.

“Milly.” Sherlock said quietly. The baby’s head snapped up from the toy and she stared open mouthed at Sherlock’s mouth. “Milly.” He repeated. Her eyes grew even wider, she dropped the toy and touched her father’s lips with her hands. “Milly I love you.” Sherlock had planned that they were the first words she would hear, even if she had no understanding of them. The baby gasped and rocked back, then went forward to touch Sherlock’s mouth again. “Hello.” Sherlock now was becoming overwhelmed with sentiment, and his voice cracked on the word.

Benedict moved close to his Daddy and looked at Milly. “I’m your big brother, Ben, I look after you.” He told her. Milly flayed her limbs wide and jerked up from John’s lap, then continued exploring Sherlock’s mouth. “Benedict is your brother.” Sherlock told her. Milly smiled, and cooed, and smiled, and gasped. John had tears running down his cheeks. “Your turn.” Sherlock smiled at him taking Milly in his arms and turning her to face John.

“Hello beautiful girl.” John beamed at her. She squealed and banged her hands on Sherlock’s shoulder, then turned back to look at John.

“I have someone you need to meet.” He informed her, and went out to retrieve Lydia from Joan. The girls were delighted to see each other, but when Lydia reached for Milly and said;

“Mmmlee, Mmmleee.” 

Milly squealed in pleasure and wanted to touch her sister. The two girls were put into a cot where they explored the toys and Milly heard her sister babble on to her for the first time.

“Think we have success.” Dr Lowe concluded. “I’ll give you a few moments.” He and the team left the room. Sherlock looked at John and then at Ben, without a word the three hugged and kissed each other.

“A good day for the Watson Holmes clan.” John summed up.

 

******

 

Millicent can hear. She responded well to sound. SH.

Glad to hear it. I shall attend 221B this evening to have a word with her. MH

We are out of scones. SH

Childish, dear brother. My word will be introductory. MH

I am sure Millicent will find it delightful. SH

 

******

 

 

 

 


End file.
